


No Wolves In California

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Neglect, Child Stiles Stilinski, First Meetings, Full Shift Werewolves, Light Angst, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Stiles wanders the woods alone, Wolf Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: On a walk in the forest, eleven-year-old Stiles stumbles upon a wolf. Which is impossible, because there are no wolves in California, right?
Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 163





	No Wolves In California

It is a warm summer day and Stiles stumbles upon a wolf.

He just wanted to take a walk in the forest, just wanted to get away from people. Exhausting, loud, never listening people. Which, unfortunately, are everywhere. Like at the hospital. Stiles hates the hospital. Everyone there always gives him either sad pitying glances or wrong cheerful smiles. Everyone tells him it will be alright - which is a lie.

Nothing will be alright. Stiles' mother is going to die. And there is nothing anyone can do against it.

His mother will be gone. She told him once she would always be there, and now she will be gone.

Stiles kicks a stone and scowls.

It's not fair. He wishes he could do magic. He would just make the thing in her head disappear. That thing, that makes her forget. That thing, that makes her look at Stiles like she is not sure who he is.

He would make everything disappear. And he would make his Dad stop being so sad. Because he hates it. Hates to wake up at night and stumble down the stairs, only to see his Dad sitting at the kitchen table, head in hands and a sour smelling bottle beside him.

But magic isn't real.

His mother's illness and his father's sadness are real.

All the people annoying Stiles are real. And thinking that the real world sucks infinitely doesn't change anything.

But here, in the forest, he can at least be alone. He is not supposed to be here, all on his own, because it can be dangerous - sometimes, people find rusty traps and broken bottles - and he could get lost. But Stiles takes care to only walk the paths he knows and he always looks down to make sure he doesn't step into anything. He could still be eaten by a bear, a kid at school told him, but Stiles doesn't think so. He has read about bears and he is sure they wouldn't roam the woods so close to humans. They are smarter than that, like most wild animals. And they don't eat humans.

He kicks another stone while walking, watching it disappear in the undergrowth. Stiles can already feel himself getting a little bit calmer, the memories of his last visit and his mother asking who he is fading. The forest is mercifully quiet around him and he can let his mind wander without constantly being interrupted.

Stiles walks on and imagines he is a treasure hunter, seeking a long lost chest filled with gold - and then he hears the growl. A low, threatening growl.

Stiles' insides seem to turn into icewater. He stops dead in his tracks, the hairs in his neck standing up. Slowly, he looks to his side, expecting to actually see a bear which didn't want to follow the unspoken rule "Stay away from humans". But there is no bear. Instead, he sees a wolf. A huge real wolf, with very real gritted fangs and blazing yellow eyes.

Stiles swallows and his stomach sinks. That's not possible. There are no wolves in California. The internet says so.

But, apparently, the internet is wrong.

The wolf continues growling and Stiles takes one step back slowly. The wolf's ears twitch, but he doesn't lunge at Stiles. Yet. "Nice wolf," Stiles whispers, his voice trembling. He will just move back the path like that. Slowly. It can't be that far to the first buildings. "Nice ..."

The wolf chuffs - it sounds almost like a really annoyed human snort - and then whines, turning his head and nosing at something on the ground, still not attacking or running away or doing anything else that would be proper animal behavior.

Stiles frowns. He can't help himself. He has to take a closer look. Which is probably stupid, but everyone - Stiles included - knows he is too curious for his own good.

Stiles carefully takes a step closer to the wolf and tries to see what the wolf is doing. The next moment, he realises the wolf isn't moving because one of its legs is caught in one of these awful old leghold traps the police warns people against. 

Stiles grimaces. He immediately feels sympathy. It has to be so painful to be trapped in this thing. He carefully approaches the wolf to take a closer look. The animal really is huge. Stiles is quite sure a wolf shouldn't be _that_ huge. The wolf perks up and watches his every move, but it doesn't growl again. There is a bit of blood on its snout now. Stiles crouches and looks at the trap. The wolf's leg is bloody, bent into an awkward angle and Stiles thinks he can see a bit of white bone. His stomach starts to feel funny.

Whoever put that thing here, Stiles hopes he stepped into one of these too. Which probably isn't a nice thing to think, but it is also not nice to spread these traps in the forest, hoping some innocent animal will step into it.

Stiles chews on his lip. What is he supposed to do? He is just a kid. The wolf is huge enough that it could bite his head off, if it wanted to. Only Stiles thinks, the wolf won't hurt him. It's just a feeling, but it's strong.

Still, he should call someone. His Dad. The police. Animal Control. Or Doctor Deaton, the local vet who lets Stiles pet the dogs sometimes.

Someone, who knows something about wolves. Maybe, this wolf escaped from some zoo or sanctuary, Stiles thinks and feels the animal's eyes on him. He looks up, right into the yellow eyes - only they aren't yellow anymore. Instead, they are glowing in a bright neon blue. Stiles stares, his jaw dropping open. "What the fuck," he says slowly and almost presses a hand on his mouth, because _bad word._ "What ... Okay, hold on. I am not dreaming, am I?" He pinches the back of his hand. Nothing happens. The wolf stares at him and - "Did you just roll your eyes!?" Stiles asks in disbelief. The wolf only sighs and whines again, looking at his injured leg.

Stiles has never been so confused in his life. Something is really off about this wolf. And when he puts the pieces together to form a picture, there is only one possible outcome. It is ridiculous, but ... Sherlock Holmes said if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Stiles takes a deep breath. "Are you a werewolf?" he asks and tries to not feel stupid because he talks to an animal. "Like, for real? If yes, do that eye thing again." He holds his breath.

The wolf stares at him for a moment, and just when Stiles thinks it's indeed just an ordinary canine, it flashes his eyes blue again.

Stiles doesn't know if he is supposed to laugh or cry. "Werewolves are real. Wow. Cool. _Awesome_!" Somehow, this makes him really excited instead of scared. If werewolves are real, is magic too? His mind immediately wanders off, to all the sudden possibilities.

The wolf whines again and moves restlessly, only to snarl at the trap when it undoubtedly hurts his leg. Stiles swallows. "Yes. Okay. I know you have to be in awful pain. I ... I think I can free you. Don't bite me, okay? Please?"

The wolf rolls his eyes again. Stiles kind of wishes he would stop doing that. He also wishes this isn't just some kind of really specific and realistic dreams, he has them now and then. "Okay," he murmurs, reaching forward and fumbling with the trap, searching for the trigger. They all have a trigger. He read about it. When he finds it, he causes the trap to snap open again. The wolf pulls his leg out with a hurt noise and stumbles a few steps forward, before laying down and licking at his injury. Stiles frowns. "What now? Someone has to take a look at that. Look, we can go to Deaton. You can pass as a wolfhound, right? Uh. Right. A very wolfy dog." He grins.

The wolf huffs, but gets up to limp after Stiles when he walks the path back, glad that Deaton's clinic is close.

* * *

"A wolfhound," Deaton repeats calmly while he looks at the wolf's injured leg.

"Yes," Stiles says, shifting his weight nervously and fidgeting with the sleeves of his red hoodie. "Found him in the forest. He stepped into one of these awful leghold traps and I helped him."

"Hmm." Deaton's lip twitch. "He is a bit huge for a wolfhound."

"Yeah. Well. But there are no wolves in California and what else should he be? A werewolf?" Stiles asks, laughing awkwardly and throwing his hands up.

Deaton glances at him, scanning him with his intense look. "I guess not," he says slowly. "I will have to set the bone and it will take quite a while. You can go home, or you can wait and pet some of the animals."

"Alright, I'll stay," Stiles says without even thinking. Home isn't much fun and how can he leave when he found a real werewolf? He exits after a last look at the wolf, who returns his gaze and chuffs. Stiles just grins and waves. He tries not to feel betrayed that this weird werewolf didn't even growl once at Deaton, but instead walked right into the animal clinic as if he'd been there before. Strange ...   
  


* * *

"The boy already figured it out, huh," Deaton mumbles while pulling out some herbs. "He's a smart one."

He turns back to the wolf who has his head on his paws and looks like he is about to doze off. Deaton looks at the injury and frowns. "This is healing very slowly. Much slower than it should. But I hope, this will help."

He applies some of the herbs on the wounded leg.

The wolf makes a snarling noise of discomfort and twitches.

"I know. It's not pleasant. Now, when are you going to shift back to human, Peter? Laura and Derek are very concerned you know. I get why you shifted and disappeared from the hospital, but you still have family left. They struggle too. And they would like to have you back."

The wolf growls quietly and closes his eyes. Deaton sighs. He doesn't stress the subject more. After all, it is painful for him too, to talk about the fire and its consequences.

He finishes his examination and wraps a bandage around the injured leg.

Deaton is surprised when a little while later, Peter limps to Stiles who sits on a chair and reads a magazine, rubbing against the boy's legs and making a content purring noise. Stiles laughs and reaches out carefully, to run his fingers through the wolf's fur, amber eyes filled with awe.

Maybe, Deaton wonders while watching them, Stiles will be able to get Peter out of hiding and back to his hurt human side. After all, Peter has always been great with children and has a protective streak when it comes to them. Maybe, he sensed that Stiles needs someone right now, someone who comforts him. Maybe.

Stiles looks up at Deaton and grins. "I think he likes me."

"Hm. It seems so, yes," Deaton says with a mild smile and ignores Peter's annoyed glance at him. "But what are we going to do with a big injured wolfhound, huh?"

Stiles swallows. He squirms on his chair, fingers running through Peter's fur firmer. "Uh. Maybe he can stay here?"

Deaton chuckles. "Maybe. If he wants to."

Stiles eyes him for a moment, looking like he's thinking hard. Deaton waits. He has a feeling Stiles will open up to him. And he does.

"Doctor Deaton, what would you say, if I told you this isn't a wolfdog but a werewolf?" Stiles asks, ducking like he expects to be laughed at. "Would you call me crazy?"

"No, Stiles," Deaton says quietly, "I wouldn't call you crazy. Because I know he's a werewolf." I know his name, I have known him all his life and I knew his family, he thinks in silence, his chest tigthening.

The boy gasps in suprise. But like almost all children, he adapts to new information rather fast. He stares up at Deaton with wide fascinated sparkling eyes. "Do you know a lot about werewolves? Can you tell me? Can you?"

Deaton nods.

Stiles smiles and it is the brightest smile Deaton has seen on the boy's face ever since his mother was admitted to the hospital.

Peter rumbles and rubs his head against Stiles' knee.

**Author's Note:**

> If this story sounds familiar to you, it is because I decided to delete a story collection I didn't feel satisfied with ("For In Between") It was a mess, there was more than one fandom, and I already have a story collection anyway, so I decided to post the stories as One Shots and edit / extend them a bit. I feel better with that now and I guess it's also easier for readers to find the stories they like this way :)


End file.
